Only a Man
by MissScorp
Summary: Even a legendary hero like himself is allowed to have his doubts...


**A/N:** Hello m'dears! Hope that the week is being fabulous to you!

I finally watched the _Avengers_ and _Captain America_ this week and had a plot bunny hit that I just couldn't make go away. Hopefully I do the plot bunny justice!

* * *

_Woman, I'm only a man_  
_Do the best that I can as you know_  
_Woman, I'm only a man_  
_Do the best that I can as you know_  
_Now you know how I feel, nothing is real_

_'Only a Man'_ by the Scorpions

* * *

The officer asked him, 'why the hell should I take orders from you?' and he'd responded by slamming his vibranium shield into an attacking Chitauri. Not that Steve Rogers had really known how to respond to the officer's bluntly asked question. It was a question that the man known to the world as Captain America had been routinely asking himself ever since his awakening a few weeks ago. _Why should anybody take orders from me_? he silently wondered as he looked at the people who were seated around the small conference table in Stark's richly decorated office. Only Stark, Banner and Thor were present at this meeting. Barton and Romanoff had been called back to S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters by Fury for debriefing.

Of the men seated at the table, Stark and Banner were the two he felt were better suited to be giving orders, age and experience notwithstanding. This was their world and their time. They knew each and every dark secret that this modern age possessed, understood who the enemies were and what it took to keep the innocent people on this planet safe. Only Thor, the Asgardian warrior from another realm, was as much out of place in this time as he was. _And even he is more comfortable here than I am_.

Steve released a slow breath as their voices buzzed like bees around him. He took a long look around the room, taking careful note of every new-fangled piece of technology that waited to greet him. Computers, televisions, cordless phones, digital clocks, portable electronic devices that could fit in the palm of his hand, all items that had come about during the seventy years he'd been frozen in ice.

He then turned to look out the huge bayside windows at the Midtown Manhattan skyline gleaming beneath the late afternoon sun. _So much is the same_, he thought while studying the familiar skyline. And yet he knew that absolutely none of it was as he'd left it in 1942. The world had gone on around him, evolving and advancing into this great technological beast that he did not think he'd ever understand.

He was a relic that belonged in the dark ages from which he'd been spawned.

Steve's thoughts took him away from the conversation that was droning on without him. It wasn't that he was unaware of what his fellow Avengers were discussing, though. He knew perfectly well what was being talked about. It was just that chatting about the Chitauri invasion, Thor's brother Loki, portals to different worlds, S.H.I.E.L.D and the possibility of more _alien_ invasions were taking a backseat to the thoughts and emotions that'd been plaguing him ever since he'd found himself stranded in this modern age.

Because for all that he was a loyal American patriot, for all his dedication to defending the world and its people from attack, for all his bravado and courage, for all his heart and passion, Steve "Captain America" Rogers was still one thing at the root of it all: human. He told himself that he was allowed to be plagued by self-doubts. He was allowed to question why he'd survived his arctic coffin, what the purpose was for his being reawakened, how he was supposed to fit into a world that was so completely unlike his own. He was allowed to wonder about the direction his life was about to take. And he was sure as hell allowed to feel weary of all the fighting, of all the violence and chaos.

Because he was only a man.

A man.

A man that was out of his time and doing the best that he can.

Only a man.

A man who might have the most noble of spirits, but who didn't need to be perfect.

Only a man.

A man.

Not a man in an iron suit, or a displaced God with an mystical hammer named Mjolnir, or a doctor with a big green alter ego that could smash things to pieces without any problem whatsoever.

He was just a man and he was trying. _I swear I am trying Peggy_, he said to the woman who he'd been forced to leave behind in order to save the world from nuclear attack. _I really am. But I'm only a man. I can only do the best that I can_.

Nobody could expect more than that he told himself.

"Hey Rogers, Alzheimer's finally catch up with you?" he heard Stark snark.

"What?" Rogers asked, turning to look at the smirking figure negligently reclining in a swiveling office chair, twirling a pen in one hand. "You say something, Stark?"

"Seventy years as a Capsicle damage your hearing?"

Steve heaved a sigh. By God, he liked Stark's kid. He'd proven himself to be willing to make the sacrifice play at the end. But the kid was enough to try even _his_ patience. "I swear, Stark," he said on a long, weary sigh. "If I hear one more wisecrack out of you…"


End file.
